


I Say Thee Nay

by maya_lev



Series: Thorquill Week [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, ThorQuill Week, Thorquill Week: Day 2, prompt: victory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 16:04:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15246879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maya_lev/pseuds/maya_lev
Summary: Tyr, the God of Victory must be paid homage for blessing them in the war against the mad Titan. But something is asked of Thor that is beyond his ability to offer.





	I Say Thee Nay

**Author's Note:**

> Thorquill Week: Day 2, Prompt: Victory

Thor and his retinue received much attention from the locals of the serene town. It was not a holiday season, and most people on the lakeside streets of Stockholm were store owners, keeping the business open in the hopes that the odd tourist would walk in. They were not expecting the old Gods themselves to make an appearance. A few of them stopped Thor along his way, offering their prayers and some knelt before him. Thor was swift to embrace them and bade them with bountiful harvests and good fortune. The rest were wary to approach, observing the Aesirs carry an odd assortment of items ranging from wild plants to livestock, peculiar weapons to trinkets that glowed and hissed. Thor knew those few to be the skeptics.

The journey did not take them long. Lady Sif was the first to reach the place where the land rose to the mountains one side and met the lake on another. The sun was going down behind the far end, throwing purple hues into the sky. She held out a hand, palm facing the trembling water. A chain of gold sprang up to her hand, curling up her arm like a loving pet. She chanted an incantation, her shrill voice ascending into the night sky seeking permission to enter the lake. The clouds above darkened in that very instant, masking them in a gloom that was not Thor's doing. A beat later rain lashed on them with a fury that made the locals scatter, but the Aesirs stood ground.

Peter Quill who was the only mortal among them and was accompanying as a guest, let out an unkind curse and glared at Thor. “What in the never-ending space are you doing, Thor? I just bought this jacket!”

Thor looked up, frowning. It seemed that Tyr, the ageless and the just, was not pleased. Nevertheless, the rain did not touch him, as it never did when he did not will it, so he held his hand out to the halfling.

Peter came to him, but not without protests. When Thor pulled him against his side, his seidr took care of the jacket that Peter had complained about.

“Oh geez,” said Peter, jerking against him a little in surprise, “give a guy some warning will you? That felt like someone just ripped tape off my skin. Don't do that again. Ever.”

Thor looked down at him, amused, “I thought you cared for your jacket.”

“I care for you to not get me wet in the first place,” said Peter with a scowl on his face that made Thor smile wider. This expression of constant disapproval was ever present in the halfling's face and Thor found it adorable.

When Thor glanced up again, he lost his smile. Frowning, he said, “It is not I, who is responsible for this.” Even as he said it, the wind picked up speed and the night around them howled.

Sif who had by now pulled an oaken ark ashore, which had materialized from the shallow depths of the lake. It was big enough to fit the twenty times the size of their group. Thor ushered Peter alongside him and gave him a push to haul him aboard. The journey to the center of the lake did not take them long, yet by the end of it, the ark was sodden and the sails were sagging. When they reached their destination, Thor called forth his lightning and struck it at the heart of the lake, sending a prayer to Tyr, to allow him passage. Tyr must have accepted, for the lake folded on itself and parted and from it arose structure made of wood and steel, afloat a bed of golden chains.

“Behold,” said Thor with vigor, for the benefit of those who were young and unaware of history, “the sacred temple of Ubsola, where the mighty God of Victory Tyr resides. To him, we shall pay our homage tonight by offering gifts from lands far and wide.”

The anchor was set and the party climbed onto the island of chains, one by one. Peter who was still by Thor's side, hesitated. “I think this is a bad idea,” he said, looking at Thor with worried eyes. “A storm that's beyond your control is kinda freaky okay? And what's an Asgardian doing on Earth anyway?”

“We left Earth when we climbed aboard the ark,” said Thor, nodding in the direction where Stockholm was supposed to be. “You won't be able to see any life ashore from here. Look.”

Peter looked and his expression darkened. There was no trace of the land they had left behind. Not even a single flickering light was found where only moments before the lakeside had been bright with open restaurants and stores. “I'm not sure I like all this magic and shit,” he said, his mouth pulled in a tight sneer.

“Worry not, beloved,” said Thor, holding out his hand and pulling Peter beside him, “It is Tyr. He is known to have a temperament, but he is also just. We have nothing to fear.”

“If you say so,” said Peter, but his voice was that of disbelief.

Thor pushed to the front and came upon a majestic door with two flying Goshawk etched on it. They yielded easily enough when he pushed them open and in the went, into a damp gloom.

Peter beside Thor struck something against himself and a feeble light threw long shadows around them. Thor realized that Peter couldn't see as well in the dark, so he flicked his fingers and it sparked. The chamber lit up like it was day, and they found themselves to be in a long corridor with statues of ancient Gods on either side. Many of them were disfigured.

“This is the creepiest way one can think of for victory celebrations,” said Peter, putting away the glowing stick he was holding.

“We are only paying the God, what is due to him. It is our way,” said Thor, looking at the man and hoping he would understand that this was close to his heart.

The Aesirs each had a patron God that they swore by and Tyr was Thor’s favorite. He was courageous, brave, just and the protector of innocents. He also always ensured the victory of those he favored. Thor had not invoked his help before the war against the mad Titan, yet he knew in his heart that it was due to Tyr that they had won against all odds. Now it was his duty to offer gifts to please the God. All this he had expressed to Peter, and it had been his behest that his beloved accompany him on this honorable journey.

Peter looked at Thor with much skepticism but didn't say anything to refute him.

The corridor led them to a vast circular chamber, with high ceiling and there in the middle were three small idols. Peter moved ahead, his curiosity getting the best of him. Thor smiled fondly.

“Is that your father?” exclaimed Peter, turning to look at Thor with incredulous eyes. He was pointing to the statue on the left end and indeed it was Odin, the Allfather. On the right end sat the stone form of his fair mother. Between them, the one-handed Tyr.

“Yes, it is he,” said Thor nodding, “and that be my mother, fair Frigga on the far end.” He stepped forward and pulled Peter beside him before he could get too close to the figurines. It was considered quite scandalous to touch an idol of any God unless you were _Gothi_ , a priest. Unfortunately, none among them was one.

Thor raised his hand and the Aesirs assembled the offerings on the floor. The weapons gleamed in the illumination from Thor's hands, causing light to scatter across the chamber. A few Aesirs set down live goats and sheep. Thor saw Peter grimace at this, and he understood why. Sacrifices were never a pretty sight, especially to those who were unused to hunting. It gladdened him to know that even after all the bloodshed they had gone through during the war, the halfling still had a tender heart.

“That’s it? You dump all your gifts in weird tombstone and call it victory celebration? Also, I thought there was going to be an actual God around here. Where is that Tyr dude? Or is all I'm going to see today is a one-armed doll? said Peter, being his usual outspoken self. Thor was only relieved he hadn't insulted the God. At least not directly. Still, the Aesirs around them bristled.

Volstagg, who was quick to lose his temper, said with a growl, “Have care mortal -”

Thor silenced him mid-speech with a pointed glare. To Peter, he said, in a much gentle tone, “He appears to those he deems worthy.”

“Have you actually ever seen him?” asked Peter, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” admitted Thor, but he had felt Tyr’s kindness more times than he could remember. Before he could voice his feelings, a booming voice echoed through the circular chamber.

“Who dares speak ill of the mighty Tyr? Doth thou not desireth thy life? Come mortal so I may crush you with my one good arm.”

All Aesirs including Thor fell to their knees as the form of the one-armed God in all his glory, materialized before them. They kept their eyes downcast, respectfully. Belatedly, Thor realized that he hadn't asked Peter to do the same. Thor noticed his young lover to be standing still, his countenance that of defiance and his outstretched arms holding his weapons.

“What the actual fucking fuck?” yelled Peter, thrusting his blaster against the foreboding form of the God. Thor recognized immediately that it was a primal instinct that was driving his beloved: Peter was scared. He was about to ask Peter to put down his weapon but worried that it might goad him to be more aggressive. So he pleaded to the God instead, “Kind Tyr, he is but a mortal who knows not of our ways. I implore that you treat his speech as you would a child's twaddle.”

Tyr strode forward into the light. He was taller than Volstagg, who was the tallest of them all and his beard was dark and reached his knee. On his one arm, he carried a tall spear. “Then I charge thee for his folly,” said the God, point the sharp end of his spear at Thor.

“I accept,” said Thor, with all the humility he could muster, “It was my desire that he celebrates the victory sacrifice with me. Be beside me as I offer my humble thanks to you.”

“Is that Thor the Thunderer who thus speaketh?”

Peter’s blasters were lowered and his beloved was watching them with avid attention. Thor winked at him with a smile, letting him know that all was well.

“Yes, it is I,” said Thor, answering the God, and splaying his arm in the direction of the assembled gifts. “We have brought you gifts from wide and afar. It would please us much should you accept it.”

Tyr, the just, ignored him and stood scrutinizing Thor instead. Thor grew uncomfortable under his gaze. “Thou art much changed.”

Thor didn't voice any reply to that, but Volstagg did. “Oh yes, yes, he's changed a lot. Got a lot more boring if you ask me.”

Thor narrowed his eyes and gave his friend a look conveyed his feelings of betrayal. But again, it was not Thor who spoke. “What a surprise that you noticed anything beyond your mountain pile of food, Andre,” drawled Peter, making his way back to Thor.

Thor did not know who Andre was nor was he sure if it was an insult, but he looked up at Peter and smiled.

“Whence did thou pick up this knave?” said the God, making a motion to the Aesirs to rise. “He much amuses Tyr. I shalt make him my scullion.” The God laughed, and the sound resounded off the walls, not unlike mountains clapping together.

Peter bristled and said with his chin jutting forward, “What did you just call me? I’m not a scallion or whatever.”

Thor had to concede on that. “He is a dear friend,” said Thor, “I cannot offer him up for your service.”

“Thou wouldst cause Tyr grief by denying what he seekest?” demanded the God, his face turning foul with anger, “Look thee at your offerings. Goats and shrubs? And what use has Tyr for trinkets, when he hath his undefeated spear? Did thy father not profess thee with any wisdom? Why these are but insults to Tyr!”

Unrest filled the chambers, and Thor knew the Aesirs to be displeased. His own temper was not far from the surface. His arms sizzled blue and white, but with grit, Thor pulled his seidr back in.

“It is thus: Tyr shalt have him or ye wilt be brought to naught,” said Tyr, brandishing his spear and jabbing it at Thor’s chest.

“Hey dark Santa Claus, stop talking about me like I’m not here, okay?” said Peter, as he attempted to get between Thor and the spear. Thor tried to dissuade him by giving shaking his head, but if Peter understood, he showed no signs that he did. “I _told_ you it was a bad idea to come here,” said the halfling instead.

Thor would loathe to admit it, but he knew his beloved to be right. As his patron God, Tyr was someone Thor could not raise his hammer against, and that was the only reason, he still stood where he did. He had to use a different tactic - one that filled him both with excitement and apprehension.

“It is not in my capacity to give you what you seek, noble Tyr,” said Thor hiding a nervous smile by lowering his gaze, “It would be easier to part with my heart, than to part with this mortal.” Peter beside Thor gave him a strange look as if he could understand that something monumental was going to occur. It was indeed.

“Thou speakest in riddles! Untwist thy words!”

“I intend to seek Idunn’s favor. I intend to marry the halfling,” said Thor, his eyes steady on his beloved. It took the man a few seconds to comprehend what was uttered, and when he did, the blasters he had been holding till then clattered to the floor loudly. The Aesirs behind them shuffled and murmured, but Thor’s attention did not stray. He did not even pay attention to the offended look on his patron God’s face.

Thor’s thousand and five hundred-year-old heart hammered on like it were a newborn’s, threatening to fall out of his mouth. Peter did not look to be pleased.

“You stupid, _stupid_ God,” said Peter, seething, “you ruined my proposal! You ruined my fucking proposal! Take it back, take it back! I’m not going to be the woman in the relationship!”

The exclamations were so strange and far from what Thor had expected that he laughed, loud and boisterous. Relief and happiness flooded him with equal measure. Not even the wrath of an offended God could dampen it. He laced his fingers around the halfling’s, and said to Tyr, “Thus it is not in my humble capacity to part with my intended. You may seek anything but him and they shall be yours.”

The skies rumbled with thunder, and it still wasn’t Thor’s doing. But after a few tense moments, the God’s countenance morphed, “Thou art soft, just as thy father was. Wooing and persuading the fair Frigga, not unlike thee.”

Thor grimaced and shuffled. His face felt hot and cheeks felt heavy. If asked, he would deny wooing Peter since the day they had met, but that is what he had done.

“It is decided!” said Tyr, interrupting Thor’s shameful thoughts with a bang of his spear, “Tyr shall accept thy meager offerings along with the devotion of your entire lineage as recompense for you victory”

Thor smiled and said, “And I shalt be forever grateful for your gratitude, just Tyr.”

“Lineage? What lineage?” said Peter, looking between them in confusion.

Thor winced and thought it was a conversation that had to be had at a later, _much_ later time.

**Author's Note:**

> OOF! I literally raced against time to write this. Hopefully, it has some semblance of plot, structure, and consistency in the flow. Also, don't even get me started on the use of archaic English. If there is anyone out there, who can give me a suggestion on improving the style, or point out mistakes, you are welcome. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the read. Do comment on what you think/how you feel about the story.


End file.
